Prelude
by BurgundyHope
Summary: They thought they'd made it through the worst, but that one night was only a prelude to a more sinister threat.
1. Part 1

Kitty wrestled, fought, clawed her way through the pain, through the blinding terror. Heart racing painfully in her chest, cloth over her face blocking out any remaining light in the already darkened room and slowly suffocating her, she couldn't even gather herself enough to scream, to call for help.

She threw back an elbow, making contact, and her attacker stumbled back, dragging her along until he shifted his momentum and shoved her against the dresser, knocking the wind out of her. She grasped for the edges to orient herself, gain her footing, but rough hands pulled her back, whatever she'd left on top of the dresser that morning crashing to the floor. She was thrown against the wall, and an arm flung out for balance found the window, her fist smashed through the glass. Then something hard, solid, cold connected with the side of her face, and light exploded behind her eyes, pain robbing her of any conscious thought. Then again. And again.

Kitty landed hard on something soft – her bed – and tried to roll over, to shield herself, before she was caught around the waist and slung to the floor. Chest heaving, trying to drag in air through the fabric over her mouth, lightheaded from the pain and lack of air, she could only cry out weakly when a booted foot kicked her in the side, her ribs taking the brunt of the impact. She lie on the floor in the abrupt silence that followed, writhing in agony, groping ineffectively at the covering on her face.

Then one sound broke through the haze, the familiar jingle of a belt buckle, and Kitty could feel her assailant's presence looming over her. Her breath caught in her throat, and a chill washed over her body as she instinctively curled up on herself.

She could taste the blood and the fear, and a new rush of adrenaline coursed through her as she felt her legs being pulled down from her chest, knees shoved apart. A fist to the side of her face shattered her focus, the back of her head connecting with the unforgiving floor.

Kitty couldn't— _Not again – please, no…._

Distantly she heard pounding footsteps, frantic shouting, a large crash and then—

Gunfire.

The figure over her tumbled to the floor, his strings suddenly cut.

"Miss Kitty?" _Festus…._ Instantaneous, overwhelming relief. Then he was there, pulling her into his arms, safety, freeing her from the suffocating cloth and a nightmarish fate. Kitty shuddered. And suddenly she couldn't stop crying, clutching at Festus like a lifeline. It had all happened so quickly, and it could have—

Kitty focused on Festus, his comforting arms, gentle touch, stroking her hair while he rocked back and forth. Thad was there – he told her the man was dead. Festus murmured reassurances. In the background Sam's voice faded as he ran down the hall.

Time passed, she wasn't sure how long Festus held her. Thad carried the body out of her room. Slowly she quieted, and by the time she had calmed enough to stop crying Sam had returned with Doc.

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A/N: They say necessity is the mother of invention, and I'm hoping it's also the mother of inspiration - the next chapter should be coming soon! If you couldn't tell or hadn't guessed, this is a missing moment from "The Avengers". I can't find the episode to fact check myself, though, so I'm going by memory! If I remember something incorrectly and get some facts wrong, please let me know so I can make the corrections :)

A/N 2: random question: in "Whelan's Men" Matt says that Kitty promised him she wouldn't deal anymore - does that happen in an episode that I just can't remember? Do we know when/why she promised that? Or can I use some creative license in another story I'm planning? Thanks!


	2. Part 2

It had been three weeks. Three weeks since gunfire jerked Doc from a restless sleep in the middle of the night and Sam burst into his office.

" _Doc! It's Miss Kitty!"_

Three weeks since the scene that greeted Doc in Kitty's room broke his heart. As far as Sam knew when he'd hurriedly explained the situation to Doc, Festus had killed the man attacking Kitty before he'd been able to rape her, thank God, but even so…. It had physically hurt to see his girl so obviously, brutally abused, scared, _helpless_. That's what had shaken Doc the most – Kitty Russell was anything but helpless, but the way she had clung to Festus—

Doc remembered that night so clearly he could still taste the fear….

 _Doc swallowed hard, blinked away the moisture gathering in his eyes, and moved into the room before anyone noticed his momentary lapse in composure._

" _Kitty…." Quickly kneeling beside Kitty and Festus on the floor, his medical bag set aside for the moment, Doc tenderly brushed Kitty's disheveled hair away from her face with one hand while taking her pulse with the other. He could feel Festus' gaze on him, searching for answers, Kitty still nestled within the safety of his arms. "Can we get some more light in here, Sam?" Kitty hadn't yet opened her eyes to look at him, but she leaned her cheek into his soothing touch, the tension in her furrowed brow lessening the slightest degree._

 _Already, Doc had diagnosed a probable concussion – the state of her face and the wound at her hairline, so close to her temple, turned his stomach. He softened his voice, sensitive to the raging headache he suspected she had. "Other than your head, can you tell me where else it hurts, honey? Before we move you?"_

" _Just kinda—" Kitty sucked in a harsh breath as she tried to open her eyes and look at him, immediately closing them again "—sore all over…and my – my ribs…." Her voice was weak, but she sounded coherent, which was a good sign._

" _Alright, Kitty, this is probably gonna hurt somethin' fierce, but I need to make sure they aren't busted."_

 _Kitty nodded her head just a fraction, and Festus eased her back in his arms to allow Doc better access. She held her breath while Doc carefully examined her. One spot in particular was tender – she'd have some nasty bruising – but no bones seemed to be broken, and he told her so. They could move her to his office without the risk of puncturing a lung._

Of course, that was when Doc discovered Festus had been shot in the arm and couldn't lift Kitty, and Kitty claimed she didn't need to be carried. Despite Doc's protests, she had made the attempt to stand up on her own and promptly gotten sick all down the front of her dress, confirming the concussion. Thad had carried her over to Doc's office in Festus' place. Before they'd even made it outside, though, Kitty lost consciousness.

Doc's heart had beat at an uncomfortable pace until she woke again.

It had been three weeks since Doc had taken the bullet out of Festus' arm and stitched him up. Three weeks since he sent Festus, Thad, and Sam home so he could give Kitty her privacy as he undressed her, cleaned the blood and vomit off her skin and out of her hair, and tended to her wounds. He couldn't do anything for her ribs, but he cleaned an abrasion on her cheek, a few minor cuts on one hand, and two deep lacerations on her forehead and scalp – they had also required stitches.

Doc had needed the privacy for himself, too. He didn't want an audience as he eventually let go of the professional barriers he put up and allowed a few tears to escape while he finished tucking Kitty into the bed in his back room….

 _Settling his tired bones into a chair by her bedside, Doc adjusted the quilt covering Kitty and reflected on other nights passed in much the same way. Long nights, most of them spent watching over Matt, but more than a few looking after Kitty. Both of them injured in the line of duty. Doc wondered if Matt ever saw it that way, recognized it for what it was. Injured in the line of duty…. Doc swiped at his mustache and shifted uneasily in his chair. That made it sound like Kitty had signed up to be harassed, pawed at, attacked, and the thought disgusted him – she shouldn't have to expect that kind of treatment. But it was a hazard of her job, of her role in Dodge, and of her place at Matt's side. She was a woman, she worked in a saloon, and she was "the marshal's woman." Three strikes against her, as far as society was concerned, but three things Doc knew Kitty wouldn't trade for the world. And truth be told, he really wouldn't want her to._

 _Doc reached over and took hold of Kitty's hand, sending up a silent prayer that this, finally, would be the last time his precious girl needed him in this way. He didn't know how many more nights his heart could stand to sit by her side, watching her suffer._

It had been three weeks since Doc sat up with Kitty for the rest of the night, waking her every two hours to gauge her awareness, make sure she hadn't lapsed into a coma, assure himself she would be alright.

 _The first time Doc woke Kitty, her pupils reacted to the candlelight slower than he would have liked, but she could tell him what day it was and, haltingly, what had happened in her room. The second time, her pupil response was much better, and she even made a joke about the two of them staring into each other's eyes all night. The third time, she woke herself – and scared the hell out of him – screaming._

 _Doc quickly climbed onto the bed and held her as she buried her face in his chest, sobbing. He knew it was partly a release of all the emotional and physical trauma she'd gone through only hours before and partly a symptom of the concussion. Heart aching, he tried to calm her, but she couldn't be soothed. Even the increased pain he knew her breakdown was inflicting couldn't hold back the cries that racked her body. Doc pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and held her close until she cried herself to sleep, exhausted. Then he continued to hold her, not waking her again for the rest of the night, giving her the peace she so desperately needed._

It had been three weeks, almost a month, since that animal Rick Strom had beat Kitty within an inch of her life _so he could molest her_. The other Strom boy had left town the next day without much trouble, Matt had come home, and as the days passed they hadn't heard even the faintest whisper of the Strom family name. They had all thought it was safe to move on. But as the judge sat across from them now at the Long Branch and boldly accused Festus and Kitty of murder, a nagging foreboding gnawed at the pit of Doc's stomach.

Kitty shifted closer to Doc and laid a hand on his arm.

Festus' arm was nearly healed, and although Kitty still had headaches, the bruises had finally faded from her face. _Physically_ , that night had slowly lost its hold over them. But as Doc touched Kitty's hand, hoping to ground her, he could feel her carefully concealed anxiety, and he wondered if perhaps the true nightmare was only just beginning. 

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A/N: Thanks for your patience, everyone! I had major writer's block with this chapter - hopefully the wait was worth it! And to all the guests who left reviews on the first chapter, thank you! I really appreciate your kind words :)


	3. Part 3

A/N: Since I'm terrible at remembering to put "The End" at the end of a story, and a few people thought I had more chapters to post, here's a surprise bonus chapter! In the timeline of this story, it takes place the morning after the attack. (so I've gone back in time a bit from chapter 2) And to the guests who left reviews on the last chapter, thank you, thank you, Thank You! Your kind words mean so much to me :)

* * *

Matt had been able to come home earlier than he'd expected, and he rode into Dodge a few hours after sunrise. The Long Branch still had its doors closed, which wasn't too out of the ordinary at this hour, but Matt knew Kitty tended to open earlier when he wasn't in town. She didn't sleep as much, sleep as well, when he was gone.

Doc had told him that.

Matt continued on to the jail, pushing his concerns aside, and found Festus there, making a pot of coffee. One look at his deputy's face, though, and Matt's gut clenched.

Festus had hardly finished his explanation before Matt was right back out the door. A sort of tunnel vision kicked in, and all he could see was the staircase to Doc's office. All he could hear was the sound of his own breath, harsh in the early morning stillness.

 _Kitty…._

Booted feet took the steps two at a time, slowing just before he reached the landing and then eased Doc's door open. The outer office stood empty, quiet. Doc would've stayed all night with Kitty, Matt knew that for a fact, so they'd be in the back room.

The guilt had set in the instant Festus told him Kitty had been attacked, and Matt paused for a moment, dreading what he'd find.

Slowly, Matt crossed the room and opened the door.

Kitty and Doc were both asleep on the bed, his arms around her, fistfuls of his shirt bunched in her clenched hands. Matt swallowed hard and took off his hat as he moved into the room, putting it on the bedside table and sitting heavily in the empty chair. He could see dried trails of tears on Kitty's cheeks, and the way he found her and Doc, Matt wondered if she'd had a nightmare. She wasn't one to cry when she was in pain, and he knew she had nightmares from time to time. Mostly because of him…. He'd only witnessed a few over the years, but he paid attention. It didn't matter how well she hid them the day after, he saw the signs.

Matt's gaze swept over Kitty's sleeping form, scrutinizing every square inch of her that he could see. From his vantage point, and the way she rested on Doc's chest, he discovered frustratingly little. Aside from the signs she'd been crying and her furrowed brow, she looked relatively unharmed.

The next second, as if summoned by Matt's intense stare, Kitty began to stir, groaning softly. And intimately attuned to his patient's needs, Doc woke instantly, not surprised in the least when he saw Matt.

"How is she, Doc?"

Doc took a moment to answer, looking down at Kitty before answering. "She'll be alright, Matt. She—"

Before Doc could finish he thought, Kitty groaned again, and he carefully laid her down on the bed, standing up as she finally woke.

"Doc?" Kitty's voice sounded so unlike her, and Matt grimaced. She was in a great deal of pain, that much was clear.

Doc leaned back down over Kitty, gently smoothing her hair back from her face, calming her.

"Matt's here, honey. I'm going to go get you something for that headache you've got. You should be alright to take it, now."

Doc left the two of them alone, then, and Matt got his first good look at Kitty's face. He tried to cover the shock he felt, but he knew she'd seen it.

She smiled sadly. "I'd get up, but the room doesn't move as much if I just lie here."

Her quip caught Matt off guard, and he laughed in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Kitty—"

"Really, Matt." She waited until he looked back at her before continuing, "It's done with – I'm alright. I'll be fine."

Matt recognized that tone of voice, knew what she was asking of him, and he looked her over again, searching for reassurance in her eyes. Finally, he nodded in agreement, sighing heavily. He trusted her.

Bruises covered the left side of Kitty's face, she had at least one deep gash stitched up that he could see, and she held her side carefully when she shifted in the bed. Matt could only imagine what the last twelve hours had cost her, but her blue eyes sparkled as she made a concentrated effort to move past it and winked at him.

"Now why dontcha come a little closer, cowboy, so I don't have to keep shouting. I have one hell of a headache."

The End


End file.
